The War for Freedom
by MaceWindovahkiin117
Summary: Connor Kenway has found a partner, and they're about to bring the Assassins back from the brink of extinction.
1. Chapter 1

Atticus Greene wasn't very happy with the scene. He suspected that Connor felt the same way. They were on opposite roofs, overlooking a small side street. A group of seven tax collectors had been wandering streets and shaking people down for more than they owed. Connor and Atticus had followed them, except by roof, and started to create a plan. Now, they were about to put it into place. The tax collector approached the door to their next house, and Connor dropped. The tax collector was put on his face, and an axe split his skull. Atticus dropped, then, and inserted his hidden blades into the throats of two men. Connor stood and slashed someone's throat, then split another skull. Atticus leaped from his two victims to the two remaining men, drawing his dagger. One lowered his musket for a shot, and the other prepared for a thrust. Atticus dodged the thrust, letting one man stab his comrade, and letting his comrade shoot him. A group of Redcoats had heard the battle, and ran into the side street. Atticus and Connor charged in, and the Redcoats became very, unreasonably scared. Their fear wasn't unreasonable, though. The two men were a fearsome sight. They were the Black and White Killers, the Inverse Hoods, the Dagger and the Axe. Connor was dressed in a white hooded cloak with blue trim. He had a brown leather strap across his chest that held up his quiver of arrows. He also had a brown leather bracer, which, unbeknownst to many, was the housing for one of his hidden blades. He wore a white shirt under the cloak, with a red sash over it. The sash had a brown leather belt over it with a buckle of the Assassin's insignia. He wore blue pants and brown knee-high boots made of pelts. He had a bow along with his quiver, and a pistol on each hip. There was a sword on his left hip. Atticus was dressed similarly. He wore a black cloak, though, with a black strap across his chest, a black bracer, black boots, a black belt, and black pants. He had a light gray shirt instead of a white one, and silver buttons along his cloak and shirt instead of Connor's gold. He had the same weapons as Connor for the most part, except with a long dagger in place of a tomahawk and a short musket in place of a bow. And, whereas Connor had a stylized eagle stitched onto the front of his hood, Atticus had a stylized wolf's head.

The Redcoats made a rough firing line, but the two Assassin's ducked into cover at the last moment. Now, without musket ball loaded into their weapons, the Redcoats were vulnerable to ranged attacks. Atticus and Connor drew both pistols, took out two men each, and switched to their other main weapons. Two arrows streaked forward, one striking a neck and another finding a heart. A musket ball also lashed forward, blowing off half of a man's face in a shower of blood, bone, and flesh. Connor then drew his sword in place of his tomahawk, and Atticus drew his sword instead of the dagger. The Redcoats, now down to four, blanched and one fled. Two jabbed forward with their bayonets. Atticus moved a musket aside, using the Redcoat's momentum to run him through. Connor moved the bayonet upward, leaving the musket trapped between them, and stabbed the man with his hidden blade. Atticus and Connor then moved on the last Redcoat, crossed their blades over the man's neck, and slashed his throat. Now, surrounded in blood and bodies, the two men ran off in opposite directions. Atticus turned and ran back toward the south, where they had come from, and Connor ran back to the north. They climbed separate buildings, but were soon met again and outside a Redcoat fort.

Atticus found a small footpath that led to a side entrance to the fort. There were two men outside, muskets at the ready. Connor walked past as inconspicuously as possible, and dove into the bushes when they looked away. One looked back, and nudged his friend.

"Where did he go?" Atticus took the opportunity to slip into the bushes on the other side of the side entrance, and the men looked back toward him.

One of the Redcoats looked very nervous. "What are those men called? The ones who killed the General?"

The other Redcoat blanched in his turn. "The Black and White Killers. The Inverse Hoods." The two descriptions matched. Suddenly, the two assassins appeared next to the Redcoats, stabbing them with swords and pulling them inside. Atticus and Connor crept through the tunnel, found themselves in barracks. It was daylight, so nobody was there. To the right was an ammunition cache, and to the left was a doorway guarded by one man. Atticus pointed Connor to the cache, and crept into position behind the Redcoat. When Connor finished picking the lock, there was a semi-loud click, and the Redcoat turned. He was met with Atticus's hidden blade, and was dragged under a bed. Connor handed Atticus some extra ammunition for his musket and flintlocks, and they both moved into the interior of the fort. Connor hid in some long grass, using it to creep forward toward a small wooden building. Atticus slipped from cover to cover, using crates, walls, and leaf piles, moving ever closer to the obvious officer in charge. He was strolling along the outer wall, hand on his saber, with medals gleaming and beard trimmed. He was a fop, but might not be a lazy one. Atticus clambered onto the wall behind him, and waited for him to turn.

"Who are you?" The officer asked roughly. "State your business at once." Atticus, with a swift look over his shoulder, confirmed that nobody was watching, and approached the officer.

"I have a message for you, sir." When Atticus reached him, he slit his throat with his hidden blade and dragged him over the edge of the wall. He then looked up, and saw Connor on top of the barracks, kneeling just above the wooden building with an open lantern in hand. Atticus calmly strolled to the flagpole in the middle of the fort, killing and hiding a few people along the way, and lowered the Union Flag of Britain. A few Redcoats approached him.

"What you doing?" One asked. When Atticus killed him and his comrades, one witnessed it and found another body.

"Get out the cannon! Grab all the powder and cannonballs you can!" He bellowed. "I want this man to be paste!" Men swarmed the wooden building. Atticus nodded to Connor, an almost imperceptible motion. Connor dropped the lantern. It landed on a barrel of gunpowder, and blew up the rest, setting the building and the Redcoats ablaze and flying in all directions. Atticus attached an American flag to the pole and hoisted it. Every minuteman in the area approached the fort, killing any who opposed them, and drove out the last of the Redcoats. As they left, someone yelled a command.

"About face, and FIRE!"

The Redcoats turned in three lines, fired on the Patriots, and killed a good number of them. Those on the walls turned and shot down half of the Redcoats, but then Atticus and Connor raced out.

 _One, two, three..._ Atticus started swiftly counting the surviving Redcoats. Connor beat him to it.

"Fourteen!" Connor called. Atticus slipped behind a barrel as one man fired, then sprinted out again, drawing his sword. The two Assassins stormed through the men. Atticus killed three immediately, using both sword and hidden blade. Connor had chosen his tomahawk, and killed two in the space of a second. Atticus ran one man through, burying the sword up to the hilt. Several dozen centimeters protruded from the man's back, and Atticus had an idea. Before the Redcoat could fall, Atticus rolled past him and another man. The Assassin stood and kicked the Redcoat in the back, sending him into the protruding sword blade. The two tumbled forward, and Atticus had no time to retrieve his sword, or draw his dagger. Connor had killed another three already, but all four survivors were on Atticus, seeing him disarmed. One attacked, then another from behind. Atticus dodged both strikes, leaving the men to stab their bayonets into the barrel of each other's musket, and left them tangled. Another had charged in from the side, and ran into the line of weapons. The two men holding the muskets were forced to drop them, and were left weaponless. Atticus stepped between them, and stabbed both in the throat with his hidden blades. The third man tried to get up, but Atticus picked up a fallen musket and pinned his neck to the ground with it. The last Redcoat attacked from behind, but Atticus didn't react. He didn't need to.

Connor stepped in, buried his axe in the remaining Redcoat's face, and turned to Atticus. "Is it just me," he said, "or are these battles getting easier?"

"If it's just you," Atticus said, "then it's just me. If it's just me, however, it may not just be you. Or perhaps all reality is is just me or just you." Atticus loved talking in riddles. Connor rolled his eyes and walked away from Atticus and the fort. Atticus followed, smiling to himself.

They made their way through the city, looking around for any Redcoats they could get their blades on. When they found some, they were in a column. There was an officer at the front, six regulars, and two drummers at the back. Connor went toward the back, killing the two drummers silently and simultaneously. Atticus stabbed two men, and the other five turned and drew their weapons. The officer walked toward Connor, who drew his own sword. Atticus killed a regular, and two more tried to outflank him. They stabbed at the same time, and Atticus dodged. They stabbed each other, and the officer was the only one left. He had disarmed Connor, but his own sword had been broken as well. They now stood against each other unarmed. The officer swung at Connor, but he blocked it. Atticus drew his sword and stabbed the officer in the back. His sword got lodged in his ribs, but Atticus didn't mind. His dagger was good enough, and the sword had recently become a bit cumbersome. Atticus and Connor moved on, and found more Redcoats. There were four in a group on one side of a wide street, and two on the other. Atticus killed the two, and Connor two of the four. They both drew one of their pistols and shot the last two. They reloaded, and climbed a tall building. On top were two Redcoats. They turned.

"Oy! Atay on the ground, p-" Connor kicked the speaker from the roof, and Atticus stabbed the other. Both tumbled to the road.

Someone clapped. "Good work, boys." Connor's Templar father walked from around the back of a chimney. "You have killed many British today. Unfortunately, there are more than just two factions here, or else I would be your ally." They knew of what he spoke. Had it just been British and Patriots, they would have been on the same side, the Patriots. There were also Templars and Assassins, though, and that was where they differed. "Lee? Why don't you greet our prisoners."

Charles Lee walked out from some other hidden location. "Hello, Connor. A shame I didn't kill you a while back. Would have saved me much trouble." Atticus and Connor turned so they were back-to-back, Connor facing his father, Haytham, and Atticus facing Lee. A musket shot rang out nearby. Atticus ducked on instinct and looked around. He could feel Connor doing the same. Suddenly, he felt sharp pain in the back of his head. Black invaded the edges of his vision, and he fell to the wood. He saw Connor's unconscious face, then slipped into the blackness himself.


	2. Chapter 2

_Atticus fought for his life, and the bodies piled up around him. He stood in an ankle-deep pool of blood, swinging wildly. Soon, the Redcoats had to climb over a chest-high wall of their fallen comrades in order to get to him. But for every one that he killed, three came forward. They had the high ground now. One tripped, tumbled down the wall of dead. He rolled into Atticus, who fell, and the Redcoats swarmed in like wolves to a deer. Before they reached him, though, gallons upon gallons of icy-cold water poured over him, with no apparent source and for no apparent reason._

Atticus woke up. His face and hair were wet, and he shivered. He had no weapons and his Assassin robes had been taken from him. In their place he wore torn and tattered trousers stained with blood, and a shirt that might once have been white with the sleeves and collar torn off. Across from him was a table and a shelf, all with his weapons and robes on them. He flushed with anger at the taunt. Connor was not with him, and the realization made him nervous. He tried to remember why his face was wet, but he couldn't.

Charles Lee came into view. Atticus tried to strike at him, but his wrists were tied to the arms of the chair he was in. Lee carried a bucket of water, and had tossed an empty one aside.

"I see you're awake." Lee threw the last bucket of water over Atticus's head. "I believe Connor told me your name. What was it again? Adam? Abraham? Yes, it was Abraham, wasn't it? Well, I-" Atticus jerked upward with all of his strength. The arms of the chair broke off, and pulled the seat up with them. The back, seat and legs clattered to the floor, and Atticus slammed one of the arms into Lee's head. The man fell over, and Atticus let the arms of his chair slip out of the ropes and fall to the ground. He picked up his dagger, spinning and searching the room. Haytham wasn't in there, though. He did hear yelling in an adjacent room

"I will never speak! I have told you of my recruitment of Atticus, and that is all you need to know!" It was Connor. Haytham yelled, then.

"I will tell _you_ what I need to know, boy! You do now know the half of what I might do to you!"

Atticus wasted no time. He ripped off the tattered clothes, quite literally, and donned his robes quickly. He slipped on his hidden blades, sheathed his dagger, and picked up his flintlocks and musket. He slipped his rope darts into a bag, then his poison darts, trip mines, and smoke bombs. He put his horse whistle around his neck, and flipped up his hood. The whole endeavor took about two minutes, He walked to the doorway, out into a corridor, and toward the sound of Haytham's voice. He reached a second doorway, pulled out his musket, and ducked around the corner. Haytham had his back to Atticus, and was behind Connor. He talked more calmly than before, pacing a bit and motioning with his hands. Soon, he stopped both of these.

"I will return," he said, and strode toward the doorway. Atticus jumped up, grabbed a ceiling beam, and pulled himself into the rafters. Haytham walked directly below him, away from Lee and toward what appeared to be a storage room. Atticus dropped down as Haytham disappeared in the doorway, and snuck back to Lee. The older man stirred, but Atticus wouldn't have it. He ejected a hidden blade, concentrated his anger, passion, and dedication to his cause, and stabbed Lee in the throat.

"I will not return," he said, and started back to Connor. He cut his bonds, and handed him his robes. When Connor was ready, they flanked the door, waiting for Haytham. The tricorn hat appeared in the doorway, and Connor, with both the handle of a flintlock and all of his strength, hit it. Haytham tumbled to the floor, but he wasn't unconscious. He began to get back up again, but Atticus kicked him and started to run. Connor was close behind as they emerged from a warehouse of sorts and ran toward Boston. Atticus turned a corner, dropped a trip mine, and dove into an alleyway. Connor continued the mad forward dash, and Haytham skidded round the corner. A civilian ran into him, though, and they were the one who triggered the trip mine. there was an explosion, smoke, dust, and shards of a crate. Haytham pushed through these, chasing Connor. Atticus leaped onto a wall, climbing to the roof, and jumped from building to building, following Haytham. Connor finally cut into an alley, and Atticus shot at Haytham. He looked up, saw Atticus, and began climbing the building. Atticus ran to the opposite end of the roof, then dropped and hung from it. Haytham dove over him, landing in a pile of hay, and climbed out the other side.

"Where are you?" Haytham muttered, and moved toward a well. Atticus jumped into the hay while Haytham investigated the well, and moved to the well when Haytham moved on. They began a cycle, Haytham examining a hiding spot, then Atticus moving to it. Finally, he moved to a bit of low shrubbery in an alleyway, and ran out onto the main street. He stole a horse, kicked it into a gallop, and began a search for Connor.

Within a few minutes, he found him. Connor was hiding around a corner, looking from roof to street quickly. Atticus approached with his hands up, and Connor waved him over.

"He's occupied," Atticus said. "We need only return to the Homestead." Connor nodded. They cut across the rooftops to a harbor, where they paid for passage back to Achille's manor in the homestead. When they landed, they were across the bay from the manor. Achilles could be seen leaning on his cane, overlooking the bay. Connor began an arcing route up the cliffs and around the water. Atticus simply dove into the water and swam for the cliff opposite. This was typical. Every time they sailed back to the homestead, they had a little race. It was always close, but the winner was never the same twice in a row. Atticus swam hard, looking at the cliff already for a new route. When he reached the cliff, he jumped to a high handhold, climbing more quickly than he ever had and looking five handholds ahead for a new one. The same could be said for Connor, however, and it appeared it would be close again. Finally, Atticus reached the top, jumped, grabbed the earth next to Achilles, and pulled himself to his feet. A split second later, Connor skidded to a halt next to them.

"It was Atticus," Achilles said, "which puts you both at seventeen." Connor nodded and smiled at Atticus.

"I will win this," Connor said.

"It was whoever reaches twenty first," Achilles cut in, "so three more and yes. What news?"

"Charles Lee has been eliminated." Atticus was proud of his work. "Now only Haytham remains between us and victory."

"This is good. I feared that Lee would slip from our grasp."

"In fact," Connor said, "it was Atticus who slipped from Lee's, then killed him." Achilles nodded.

"I am quite satisfied with this news. We should move on. Haytham is sure to hide out somewhere-"

"He has set up in a warehouse on the southern docks of Boston," Connor said.

"No, he will have moved," Achilles began to move toward the house. "He may try to-"

"Sir! Atticus!" Someone was running toward them. It was a messenger. "You told me to say if I saw Mister Haytham Kenway. And I have. He's caught a ferry to New York."

"Good work." Atticus gave the messenger a few pounds.

"Well?" Achilles looked at Atticus and Connor. "Go get him!" With that, the two Assassins started a race to Connor's boat. Atticus dove from the cliffs into the water, swimming toward the docks, and Connor began jumping down the series of cliffs the same way. They reached the docks at the same time, and boarded the ship. Connor began sailing, making outstanding time toward New York. Soon, they came across a ferry. And just their luck, in the Captain's Cabin window was Haytham.

Connor pulled the ship alongside the ferry, and Atticus climbed the foremast. He crept along the yardarm, then jumped, tucked and rolled on the tall ferry. Connor handed control over to his lieutenant, then followed Atticus. Both men found some crate to hide in, and they waited for landing.

They landed the next morning. The two Assassins climbed out of their crates, ran to the shores of New York...

...and realized the ship had been emptied of passengers for an hour already.

They assessed the situation. There was a fort near the harbor to the north, surrounded by a militarized district of the city. They saw it, made eye contact, and ran toward it. Once they reached the walls, they had to stop again. There was clocktower outside the walls. Atticus began climbing it, taking windowsills, jutting bricks, anything he could find. When he reached the top, he saw two leaf carts in the fort. He dove into one, and Connor into the other. Buildings surrounded them. There were no Redcoats nearby, so they emerged from their carts. Connor found some brush along the wall, and they both crouched into it. The brush continued for several meters. After that, it appeared to have been cut. In fact, there were men cutting it at that very moment. Connor and Atticus snuck over to them, stabbed them, and hid them under the leaves. There was another cart, this one full of the cut plants. Both Assassins dove into it, then jumped to a building. Atticus climbed to the top, stabbed a lookout, and threw him into the cart below. They were close to the fort, now. Atticus and Connor ran along the rooftops, avoiding Redcoats, and found a signal tower. It had a bell in a small hole at the top, and a signal fire on the very top. The two men climbed the tower, reached the bell, and killed the men standing there.

In a courtyard just inside the fort, Haytham stood. He was looking directly at them, and he had his sword out. Connor and Atticus jumped from the tower. There was a pile of hay next to Haytham, and Connor dove into it. Atticus pretended to lose his balance, waved his arms and legs, and fell into a second hay pile, hidden from Haytham by a building. There he waited. For three minutes? An hour? He was unsure. When he was finished waiting, he jumped from the hay bale and charged at Haytham. Connor was pinned down. Haytham's hidden blade was creeping ever closer to his throat, even as Connor tried to fend it off. Atticus redoubled his speed, then tackled Haytham into a well.

The well was deep. Haytham fell all the way to the water, but Atticus managed to grab the top. Haytham looked around, treading the water at the bottom of the well, and seemed to accept his fate.

"Grieved by two boys, my entire organization destroyed in a most violent and destructive manner, and now I starve or freeze to death at the bottom of a well. How unfitting."

But Atticus wouldn't have it. He climbed up to ground level, drew his musket, and shot Haytham in the head.

***One week later***

Atticus climbed the cliff as fast as he possibly could. When he reached the top, Connor was still several meters away.

"Achilles!" Connor called.

Atticus interrupted him. "We have rejoined the revolution, and have each been given command of a small group of men to train. The Assassins are to grow tenfold when we are done teaching them."

"This is very good. You have done our Brotherhood well." Achilles seemed genuinely proud of them both. "Ah, yes. I forgot to call it, didn't I?" They were unsure of what he spoke, but they listened anyway.

"Atticus wins."


	3. Chapter 3

If any of you have read the Ranger's Apprentice series, you may notice the little reference in here. :)

/\

Christopher was coming along swimmingly. He had already finished archery, wilderness free-running, wilderness stealth, and hunting training from Connor, and dagger, pistol marksmanship, city free-running, city stealth, unarmed combat, and sword training from Atticus, finishing nearly three weeks ahead of the rest of the trainees. The only thing left to learn was hidden blade combat, as opposed to hidden blade stealth kills. That was the one thing he was struggling with. He had been the one to fashion all of the practice hidden blades, and yet he couldn't use them effectively. He was already bruised on his neck, chest, head, face, stomach, and arms from the failures of his hidden blade combat. Every mistake he made, which were many and often, was rewarded with a resounding _CRACK_ as Connor or Atticus' wooden wrist blade smacked against an exposed area, or perhaps a _THUD_ and a grunt if that exposed area was Christopher's neck.

"Keep your guard up. Just like unarmed combat." Today's trainer was Atticus, who was a bit more helpful than Connor when it came to pointers. Christopher raised his guard. _CRACK!_ Atticus' hidden blade smacked against Christopher's forearm. "Keep it up, but turn your hands forward." Christopher did. Atticus attacked again, and Christopher blocked his thrust. Atticus was brought off-balance for a moment, but Christopher failed to take advantage of it. Atticus noticed. "Press your advantage when you make one for yourself. Block, attack. Deflect, counter. Good." Christopher was getting better, but much more slowly than he wanted to be. Atticus stabbed again, and met with Christopher's foot. Atticus staggered back, and was rapped across the ribs with Christopher's practice hidden blade.

"Very good. Now, a soldier practices until he gets it right, but an Assassin practices until he-"

Christopher interrupted with the end of the mantra. "-can't get it wrong." The mantra came from some quite ancient Assassins. They had come before the fabled Altair, even before the hidden blade was invented. These Assassins lived in the woods, served the king of their time with bow and knife. In fact, Christopher had been told that these Assassins weren't even called Assassins in their time, but rather Snipers, Scouts, or Rangers.

Christopher nodded to Atticus and prepared for another practice round.

/\

The rope dart swung around the Redcoat's neck and slashed his throat. He was then strung up, and the Assassin landed. He wore black trousers, black leather boots, a white cloak with red trim, a white hood, a red cloth over his nose and mouth, and some soft black leather bracers. He had a sword and dagger on the left side of his waist, a black composite bow on his back, two flintlock pistols across his chest, and two blades protruding from his black bracers. Out of his hood hung some straight blonde hair, and piercing ice-blue eyes bore into the nearest Redcoat's. Three other Redcoats charged him, and he spun around their thrusts. He stabbed them in rapid succession, and they fell in unison. Now he faced two Hessians. They wore plaid kilts, held massive axes, and were a force to be reckoned with. They flanked the Assassin, and one started a wide, slow swing. Once his momentum was started, the Assassin rolled out of the way. The axe's momentum took it into the other Hessian's neck, and he was nearly decapitated. As it was, the axe was stopped by the Hessian's spine. The Hessian let go of his axe, unable to remove it from his comrade's spine. He drew a dagger instead, but was now much less of a threat. The Assassin lunged forward, and the Hessian ended up with several bleeding stab wounds in his torso. Now the only one left in the company was the officer at its head. He would be much more of a threat than any of the other soldiers. He held a saber loosely in his right hand, and knew how to use it. The Assassin retracted his hidden blades and drew his sword. The officer didn't wait for him to approach, though, drawing a flintlock pistol instead. He took aim, making sure it was a kill shot, and pulled the trigger. As soon as the flint hit the frizzen, the Assassin dove forward. The powder ignited and the lead ball flew just over the Assassin's head. He completed a shoulder roll, then stood and ran the officer through before he could drop the pistol and raise his guard.

"Who-" the officer started. "Who are you? Why have you done this?"

"I am Christopher Hawthorne. I do this because I am an Assassin, and the British are in league with my sworn enemy the Templars. I bring you peace in order to vanquish that enemy."

The officer died.

"Attack!"

Christopher had already sheathed his sword, and now thought quickly. The fastest route would be to ready his hidden blades. He would be able to fight swiftly, easily, and deadly. The next fastest option would be to draw his dagger. He would have more weight and power behind his strikes, and still be able to maneuver against a heavier sword or axe. The slowest option besides his bow would be his sword, which he wasn't keen on using except against very few opponents.

A lead ball flew past his nose.

Christopher instinctively reached for a smoke bomb, shattering it against the ground. Its remains poured smoke, and he dove to the ground. More lead flew over him, and he used the smoke screen to crawl into some bushes. When the smoke died, Christopher saw a mass of Redcoats milling in confusion.

"Where is he?" One demanded. "Where is that Patriot scum?"

"Patriot?" Another asked. "He's an Assassin!"

"No, he's just a run-o'-the-mill Patriot with some tricks up his sleeve, nothing more!"

Christopher burst from the bushes, using his hidden blade to kill fully half the Redcoats before they realized he was there. Now, only seven Redcoats remained. They attacked, and Christopher managed to kill another three without taking a hit. As he turned to the fourth one, he was smashed in the chest by a rifle butt. He stepped back, then came forward, drawing his dagger. Two more Redcoats fell, until there was now only an officer and a Hessian. They circle him warily, but he always kept them both in front. He wouldn't have such worthy adversaries in flanking positions. The Hessian attacked, and Christopher jumped back. The axe's momentum carried it around, and Christopher was free to take the opening. He lunged forward, dodged a desperate punch, and slit the Hessian's throat. The officer shuffled back, but Christopher was quite finished with this battle in this place. He drew a pistol from across his chest and shot the officer in the throat. Once he fell, Christopher looted the officer's cartridges and reloaded his pistol. Now was the time to return to the Homestead.

/\

Atticus looked up as Christopher walked in. He lay in bed, barely clinging to life. Christopher had a feeling that his potential had kept the older man alive all of these years. He was right. Atticus was just waiting for some good news before he decided to pass on. His beard was like snow across his chest, though the top of his head was bare. He had two years ago decided to die in his Assassin's uniform, and had donned it. Now, two years later, he still lived. Connor had died only a week earlier.

"Atticus!" Christopher rushed to the old Assassin's side. "I've just killed a lieutenant of the newest Templar agent! I'm free to engage, and then we can crumble this Empire!"

"This..." Atticus struggled. "This is good. Please. I don't have much time. The fact that you've opened the gate for our Assassins to destroy the Templars again is what I've been waiting for. I'm free to move on, now. But listen, young one. I pass on to you my uniform. Take it, and wear it as Mentor of the Assassin Brotherhood, my Number One Pupil." Atticus closed his eyes, and lay still. Christopher lowered his head, but couldn't allow tears to flow. He had known Atticus for the better part of a decade, but he had to continue the fight against the Templars.

"Go, child." Atticus's voice startled Christopher. "Go! That was supposed to be a touching end-of-life speech, you know." Christopher left, waited for almost an hour, and returned. He checked Atticus's pulse, but it wasn't there.

/\

Christopher opened the door. Outside, he saw fourteen men, all dressed as farmers and merchants. They were all armed to the teeth, though, and Christopher knew who they were. These would be the new generation of Assassins, ready to be officially welcomed into the Brotherhood.

"You are all ready, I hope," Christopher said. That got a chuckle from a few Apprentices. "You're all familiar with the ranks, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," the men chorused.

"Good. Then you'll know that you're now to be graduating from Apprentice to Novice. That is the first rank that you are out of training, but you will not be independent, yet. If you tried to be independent, you would most certainly die. Every one of you will be accompanied by a Warrior on all of your... outings. When you reach Footpad rank, you will go on your first solo mission. If you perform your duties on this solo mission correctly, you will be allowed a second, more difficult mission. Once you finish five solo missions, you will graduate to Disciple. For the entirety of this rank, you will be field-training with a Veteran, Master Assassin, or me, the Mentor. You will learn everything that can be taught, though there is more to learn afterward. Once you've finished your field training, you will be a Mercenary. From there you'll be going on your own missions until you're ready to teach, at which point you'll be promoted to Warrior. After killing your first Templar, you will be promoted to Veteran. I know killing one person doesn't sound like much, but Templars are extremely dangerous. After you've proven yourself a true Assassin, which will be judged by either me or one of my senior lieutenants, you will be presented with your second hidden blade, your Master Assassin rank, and a den to oversee. Ah, but I digress. For now, all you need to worry about is your Novice rank and the Oath. Who is ready to take the Oath?"

Fourteen voices gave Christopher an affirmative.

"Good. The wisdom of our Creed is revealed through these words. We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. You will all now speak the Creed, one at a time. If you cannot speak it from memory, you will not be able to uphold it in your ventures. Therefore, you will not be graduating to Novice." Christopher pointed to the first in line.

"Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. Hide in plain sight, be one with the crowd. Never compromise the Brotherhood."

"Good," Christopher said. "His uniform?" A Master Assassin, one of those trained directly by Connor and Atticus, stepped forward with the classic Assassin's white and red uniform. The new Assassin took it and knelt.

Christopher proceeded to point to each Assassin in line, and each repeated the Creed flawlessly.

"If any of you forget, break, or ignore this Creed, you will be punished severely. At best, you will be kicked from the Brotherhood. At worst, you will be killed. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir!" fourteen voices chorused.

"Good. Now don your uniforms and find a Warrior. Your first mission awaits."

As the new Novice Assassins hurried off, Christopher walked back inside and prepared his plan.


End file.
